Clothes
by KissMeImOnlyPlastic
Summary: There was a bit of history attached to each piece of clothing he owned, though not many bore good memories.


Clothes

Jeans And Blood Stains;;

He can remember almost with complete certainty what it felt like to walk through those doors for the first time. There was a person either side him, steadying him from both sides, the stench of blood was heavy in the air as a third strode past with the creature.

Ianto shuddered.

The blood pouring from his shoulder was due to that beast, the crimson colour was staining heavily through his white-shirt, and his jeans weren't faring any better. His body was shaking, and his skin was void of most colour.

Shock. They said he was in shock. Had to be bloody worse than that-And he didn't have the pleasure of being unable to feel the pain, because with every step, he felt as though a nail were being hammered through his shoulder.

He hears them talking about him. Something about a Weevil. Something about unemployed. And soon enough, he's signing his life away to Torchwood.

Tennis Shoes;;

"I'm so sorry!"

The voice is filled with an apologetic tone, and Ianto can only grimace at the once white tennis shoes, now sporting a lovely caramel colour from the coffee he'd suddenly been wearing.

"Don't worry," His smile lingers for a moment and he meets her eyes, "Lisa," She introduces without hesitation, and Ianto laughs vaguely, holding out his hand, "Jones. Ianto, Jones," He responds. He doesn't know whether he intended the James Bond reference, but she's giggling nonetheless.

God, she's beautiful.

"Do you want to go for a coffee-I seem to be wearing the majority of yours," He speaks politely and she nods, a smile on her lips as they leave the building for the local coffee shop.

Reading Glasses;;

He's sorting through old boxes, Lisa is elsewhere, unpacking her own things. It had only been a month since they'd been dating, but it already felt so much longer.

"Ianto-You didn't tell me you used glasses," Lisa smiles, entering the room with a pair of atrociously large reading glasses, laughing as Ianto grimaces visibly. "Short sightedness runs in my family-I suppose my mother wanted to be extra careful, or prepared-Or simply wanted to torture me," He responds and tries to pull back as she perches the glasses on the bridge of his nose and moves back to admire her handy work.

"Lisa," His tone is one of complaint, and Lisa can't help but laugh and lean in to offer him a soft kiss, "I think you look handsome," She smiled, leaving the room to unpack a few more boxes.

Ianto removes them, holds them over the rubbish bag then places them in his bottom drawer, a smile lingering across his features.

Glasses aren't that bad after all.

Black Suits;;

Maybe his choice of dress had been appropriate.

His hands secured around her morphed body, and his tears flowing down his cheeks, cutting through the grime and blood as he sobbed aloud, cradling her to his body.

"Lisa, please-"

He pleads without hope, dragging her unconscious, half-metal body from the wreckage of the building and into his car where he collapses against the steering wheel, shouting and screaming.

Fuck Torchwood, Fuck the world, Fuck the Cybermen.

He tares his suit jacket apart to clean her wounds before the tears resurface and with a silent whisper and a kiss to her forehead, he's driving them back to their apartment, and for the rest of the night he remains in his suit, weary and watching over her as she slumbers. Afraid it might be more than rest. Scared to lose her like he'd lost everyone else in that building.

Silently, he promises never to wear another black suit, if only it meant to keep her alive.

Studded Belt;;

It was the only thing he could reach in time. It was a Weevil for Christ's sake, he very much doubted if it cared whether his pants were kept up or not, but he wouldn't exactly be pleased if his pants came down halfway through their scuffle.

Okay, so he liked the studded belt. Lisa had brought it for him.

He got to the area, only to find someone was already there. Not just someone, he recognized him. Torchwood Three's commander. Perfect.

Their fight didn't last long, neither did the conversation, but long enough for Ianto to slip a small tracking device onto the others jacket, a smirk lit his features.

"Love the Jacket," Boy, did he love to rub things in. Though, if he was lucky, Jack Harkness wouldn't get the joke until he'd led Ianto straight to Torchwood Three.

Pink Tie;;

His first day had gone flawlessly, though, he had the sneaking suspicion that despite Jack's denials, he had been staring quite intently at Ianto's backside, rather than admiring his suit as he kept excusing.

Tightening his tie, unfortunately colored pink, Ianto finished making coffee for the team before setting it amongst their desks and slipping downstairs into the archives, opening up the back entrance after bypassing each security protocol and walking out to his car.

Lisa was in the backseat of his car waiting.

He'd promised to fix her, and Ianto had never once broken a promise to Lisa.

Never.

Navy Dress-Shirt;;

Lisa was dead.

How had everything gone so wrong? How had he made such a mess of everything. He'd lost everything he'd ever known, and now all he was left with was Torchwood. The job that inevitably would get you killed, or ruin your life.

Jack had let him stay. He wouldn't have, if he were Jack. He'd almost gotten them all killed, and he'd done a number on the base, but still, Jack didn't get rid of him.

"Why?"

Jack watched him for a moment before standing and closing the gap between them, his arms wrapping around Ianto's body and holding him near, "It'll be okay," He whispered, and Ianto couldn't help but lean into the embrace, his eyes closing tightly, and wishing that maybe Jack was right.

"I know…"

Mismatched Socks;;

Ianto hadn't had time to do the washing, so he hoped very much that no one would notice the one black and one white sock he was sporting. As it were, Owen was the first to point it out. Just bloody brilliant.

"Nice socks, Tea-Boy," Owen smirked, and Ianto tensed, rolling his eyes vaguely, "Just as lovely as your ensemble," Ianto shot back with a pleasant smile, "Honestly, I'm quite in awe of your skills at dressing yourself-Maybe one day you'll be able to learn to put them on the right way," He spoke, Gwen giggled, he doubted there was one of them who hadn't noticed Owen's jacket was inside out.

Jack snorted, "When both of you learn to dress yourself, I'll have the gold stars ready-Then again, I could help-"

"No way, Harkness."

"That's harassment, Sir."

Boxers;;

His hair was askew and his boxers were hanging off his waist loosely, revealing the curve of his bones and the pale flesh, cutting off just inches above anything much more interesting, but apparently that was enough to give the 'okay' to his Captain who'd just been 'passing by'.

Ianto's lips were parted, and his mouth was invaded by the skilled tongue of the other as his body was pressed up against the wall, trapped beneath Jack's own.

"S-Sir…" His voice was breathless, as Jack attacked his throat and his hands went to rid Ianto of his clothing completely, soon both were without their clothing and entangled amongst the sheets as Jack thrust into him, sweat the only thing clothing their bodies.

Jack awoke to the smell of coffee the next day, and the sight of the other man dressed once again in his boxes.

"Something wrong?" Ianto questioned, inclining his head as he settled on the bed, offering Jack the second mug of coffee. "Your boxers," Jack answered, gratefully excepting the mug of coffee and taking a mouthful of the scolding hot liquid.

"Yes?"

"I liked them much better on the floor."


End file.
